Daniel Whittingham: The bombproof squaddie with a lust for life

Daniel Whittingham photographed for Metro by Daniel Lynch. The tattoo on his arm shows the date of his brush with death

Daniel ‘Baz’ Whittingham doesn’t want to be hailed a hero but if he doesn’t qualify, it’s difficult to see who might.

His is the story of a soldier who defied doctors after being blown up by a bomb in Afghanistan. Of an amputee who was told he would never walk again or be able to have children but has since completed a series of challenges for charity that would test any man or woman.

And now he’s about to take on what he jokes might be his toughest mission yet – fatherhood.

‘It seems like you get a blanket statement – that you’ll never walk again,’ says Whittingham. ‘Although I did break my back, pelvis, both legs, both heels and my tibs and fibs, my lung collapsed and I suffered spinal nerve damage, so they were pretty justified in what they said.’

He explains the fertility diagnosis with equally mordant humour. ‘Imagine being hit in the gentleman’s region by something travelling 8,210m per second,’ he says. ‘They’re pretty sensitive bits of kit and it hurts quite a lot.’

And yet the 28-year-old and his girlfriend, Joanne Mcdonald, who he met in a Nottingham bar three years ago, are expecting a baby. Aiya – a spin on the name of the wild-spirited tomboy character from Game Of Thrones – is due in June.

Whittingham, from Nottingham, was a corporal serving in 11 Explosive Ordnance Disposal Regiment of the Royal Logistics Corps when he blown up by a Taliban IED (improvised explosive device) in Sangin, Helmand province, on January 6, 2009.

He had the date tattooed on his forearm and the quote ‘The measure of a man is his ability to rise again’ etched on his ribs on the first anniversary of the blast. ‘I don’t want it to define my life but it was the right thing at that time,’ he says.

He eventually had his left leg amputated below the knee on, of all days, Remembrance Day 2010. ‘All squaddies have a dark sense of humour,’ he says, ‘so I went into theatre with painted toenails and a cockerel posing pouch. My last conscious thought before going under was to squeeze it and make a cock-a-doodle-do noise.

‘The surgeon later said it was the funniest, strangest experience of his life. A guy enters his operating room wearing a posing pouch, has his leg cut off, then everyone stops for a two-minute silence. I’ve heard others have since had amputations in fancy dress. I hope I’ve started a trend, because I went in laughing instead of thinking: “I’ll never be able to wiggle my toes again.”’

‘It felt like a new beginning,’ he adds. ‘As corny as it sounds, I’d been reborn – because you don’t know what you can or can’t do and you’re not scared about those limitations. Within a week, I was saying “yes” to everything people suggested.’

Soon Whittingham had signed up for a triathlon, a swim around Jersey, was competing for Team GB as a para-canoeist, and rowing across the Atlantic to raise money for injured personnel and the people he calls the real heroes – the medical staff at Headley Court Defence Medical Rehabilitation Centre near Leatherhead in Surrey.

Amputee Daniel Whittingham was part of the only disabled team to compete in the Dakar Rally (Picture: Gaucho Productions)

His latest conquest came at the 2014 Dakar Rally, where Whittingham was part of the Race2Recovery team that not only completed the notorious 5,824-mile (9,372km) ‘world’s toughest race’ but was the only disabled group to do so – for the second year running.

‘Since finishing the Dakar, it’s been a massive comedown,’ says Whittingham. ‘Suddenly I can sleep whenever I want and a 500-mile round trip feels like it’s just round the corner.

‘Fatigue was the biggest killer. Someone recorded me after an hour’s sleep following 20 hours in the truck and it was like I was so drunk, I didn’t know where I was.

‘Your training comes to the fore – looking after your kit, your vehicle and your mates. The Dakar proves my amputation is literally a scratch in the grand scheme of things. Your mental state, training and preparation have a bigger effect than how many limbs you have.’

Whittingham credits his girlfriend with giving him the strength to compete. It was also her idea to nominate him to carry the London 2012 Olympic Torch, and move into a river boat when home life became too difficult after an Army career constantly on the move.

‘My missus is really supportive and it’s all she’s ever known me to be like,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t do it without her: it’s the little things you can’t really quantify that make it important she’s there for me. Without her support, and my friends and family, I couldn’t do these things – you get your strength from the people around you.’

Whittingham now hopes to compete in September’s Invictus Games – essentially a Paralympics for the Armed Forces. ‘I quite fancy doing something obscure, like learning butterfly, because nobody can do butterfly,’ he jokes. His involvement, he admits hinges on how he adapts to fatherhood. ‘We’ll see if having a kid is the biggest challenge I’ve taken on,’ he says. ‘I’ve been well trained for the lack of sleep, anyway.’